


Right Next Door

by Cherrys_Criminal_Mind



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A little pining, F/M, First fic for this fandom, Fluff, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 06:17:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14326395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherrys_Criminal_Mind/pseuds/Cherrys_Criminal_Mind
Summary: In which Clarke is sick and Bellamy needs to take care of her





	Right Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> I usually write for criminal minds but love The 100 and heavily ship Bellarke. If you'd be interested in seeing more Bellarke fics please let me know as I'm new to writing for this fandom so I've no idea if what I'm doing is actually any good! My tumblr for Bellarke is livingforbellarke where I'd possibly be open to au requests whilst attempting to find my feet in this fandom.

Clarke Griffin was absolutely dead on her feet. Her throat was swollen, her nose was practically dripping and she felt like she could sleep for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t be enough. She knew that her mom would have berated her for going into work tonight, she could actually hear the doctor in her telling her what to do. “You need plenty of rest Clarke. And you if your symptoms have only just started then you’re more contagious. Stay away from people.”

That was all well and good but rent was due and the tips on a Saturday night at the bar were the best. She could generally earn at least two nights worth of wages just in tips by working a Saturday. And the patrons of Arcadia hadn’t seemed to mind. For saying she’d kept a wad of tissues tucked deep into her cleavage for every time she sneezed, she hadn’t made any less tips. Actually, thinking about it, perhaps the tissues had helped. She had caught quite a few men watching her intently ans she’d dug deep into her bra to retrieve them.

The shift was luckily over now, and Clarke was in the process of arguing with the locker in the staff room that seemed loathe to give up her belongings to her when her colleague, Bellamy Blake walked in.

“Jasper’s gonna cover you tomorrow Clarke.”

“What? No!” She protested, ignoring the secretly relieved feeling as she fumbled with the combination lock.

“It’s the lunch shift, you’d hardly make any tips there and you know it. Plus, you look like hell.”

“Bet I still made more in tips than you did tonight,” she grumbled to herself.

Bellamy laughed. “You’re probably right. But still, if you infect all the customers then none of us will get any tips.” He watched her bang her locker in frustration. “You need help there princess?” His age old nickname for her rolling of his tongue.

“It won’t…. Fucking… Open!”

“What’s the code, lemme try.” He strode over and gently moved her to one side. “The combination Clarke, what is it?”

She thought for a second, the numbers somehow leaving her germ ridden brain. “It’s… it’s…. it’s my birthday. The day and the month.”

Bellamy thought for a second. He had know Clarke for years so should by right know her birthday. When he took longer than necessary she frowned.

“You’ve come to my party every year for the past God knows how many years. It’s the fifth of… ”

He knew when it was, he’d simply been messing with her. He turned the dials and the lock popped open, causing Clarke to frown again. She had no idea why it wouldn’t open for her but right now she decided she didn’t care. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out her cell, ready to call her best friend and roommate to come pick her up. Clarke had not wanted to drive in her semi comatose state and O had offered to come get her after her date with Lincoln. Apparently though, that was not to be the case. She groaned loudly, almost wanting to cry.

“Problem?” Bellamy called over from where he was pulling on his jacket.

“Your sister has abandoned me! Lincoln has whisked her away for a night in swanky hotel out of town. She messaged me from a rooftop hot tub, apologising.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes, he liked Lincoln but he didn’t need to know about his sister being in a hot tub with him. He looked back to Clarke, noticing how she was slumped miserably against the row of lockers, a light sheen of sweat covering her face. There was a time years ago when he would have shrugged her off as not his problem but times had changed. His and Clarke’s relationship had changed from a mutual hatred that seemed to kick in once puberty had hit them both, to a shared appreciation for the other, and understanding that they were both important to Octavia and they needed to coexist somewhat peacefully in order to keep her happy. More recently though, he’d even began to look at Clarke in a different way, a way that he was barely willing to admit to himself let alone anyone else.

“Come on princess, I’ll give you a ride home.”

For once in her life she didn’t argue with him, even muttering out a thanks as he led the way through the parking lot to his car, even opening the door for her. At this time of night it took barely ten minutes to get to the apartment building where she lived with his sister, but those ten minutes were all it took for her to fall asleep.

“Clarke,” Bellamy nudged her gently. A loud, unattractive snort left her throat and he stifled a chuckle. “Hey princess, you need to wake up, we’re here.”

Still nothing. “Clarke! You’re home, wake up.” He shook her a little more harshly this time, her hands sleepily batting him away.

“You can’t tell me to do, you’re not my mom,” she slurred, her eyes remaining closed. Bellamy rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys out of the ignition. This was going to be harder than he thought.

He moved around to her side of the car and opened the door, unclipping her belt. Incredibly awkwardly, he half pulled and half lifted her out of the car, trying to stand her upright as he shut the door. She wobbled and blearily open her eyes.

“Are we home?”

“Yes Clarke, you’re home.”

She nodded, in that way that drunk people nod when they’ve been given information that they’re not quite taking in. Except she wasn’t drunk, she was sick and as she took a step forward and nearly fell flat on her face, Bellamy realised his knight in shining armour gig wasn’t over yet. He caught her waist and looped his arm around it, feeling the soft weight of her fall against him as he tried to walk her to the building. It became quickly apparent that the sickness had exhausted her so much that it had turned her limbs into those of bambi and that it would take waaaay longer than necessary to get her upstairs if they walked. Cracking his neck slightly, he bent his knees and lifted her into his arms, walking quickly to her building and groaning when he saw the lift was out of action. Halfway through his ascent up the stairs, she opened her eyes and squinted at him.

“Why are carrying me?”

“Because you’ve turned into a toddler who cannot walk.”

“Have not!” She drooled slightly and he wished he was in a position to be able to take photographic evidence. She would hate this.

“Whatever you say princess, whatever you say.”

They were nearly at her door when she spoke again, her eyes not focusing on him properly. “You know…. I used to hate it when you called me that but now, I kinda like it.”

“You do?” He had to stand her upright just for a moment, leaning her against the wall as he searched his key chain for the spare key he had for emergencies. He unlocked the door and hit the light switch, grasping her shoulders and steering her inside.

“I do! It’s like how I used to hate you but now I kinda like you.”

He smiled to himself as he pulled the door closed behind him, quickly spinning back around when he heard a loud crash as she walked into the table.

“Clarke, I swear it like you’re drunk right now.”

She began to laugh, it quickly turning into a coughing fit which caused him to wince at how painful it sounded. He spotted their fridge and reached inside, grabbing a bottle of water. When she recovered she took it from him, glugging it down messily, water spilling down her chin and dripping onto her chest.

“I do feel drunk to be honest,” she croaked. “I’m just so tired and everything hurts.”

“Let’s get you into bed then….” He frowned at himself as he said those words and she looked at him, her jaw dropping a little.

“I meant….”

“I know,” she coughed again, her face contorting in pain.

“I didn’t mean….”

“Trust me Bell,” her voice was strained. “I know that you don’t actually want to get me into bed.” There was something else there in her voice, something that Bellamy couldn’t quite read but if he could he might have realised that it was disappointment. She slowly wobbled into her bedroom, him hearing a loud creak as she slumped onto her bed followed by a frustrated groan. He followed her and found her sitting on the edge of her mattress, trying to toe her hi tops off without success.

“You need help?” He offered quietly, not entirely sure if he was still needed. It seemed cruel to just leave her though.

“My head pounds when I bend over.” She looked over at him and he saw her eyes were filled with tears. This was not the Clarke Griffin that he was used to. She must be feeling terrible if her vulnerable side was showing through especially to him. He moved to the bed and knelt to the floor, unlacing and pulling her sneakers and socks off one by one and noticing her black polish on her toes. Black like her soul he knew she would have joked.

“What else do you need princess?” He stayed crouched down to await further instruction.

“Pajamas.” She pointed to her chest of drawers across the room. “Top drawer.”

He located them, pulling out an oversized t-shirt and handing it to her, turning away as she huffed and puffed her way through getting into it. When he turned back around she was a sweaty mess, mascara smeared over her cheeks. He eyed a packet of make up wipes on her dresser and grabbed them, sitting next to her on the bed and taking one out. He was about to hand it to her directly when something else came over him and he gently reached for her chin, holding it softly as he wiped her face clean. She didn’t complain or question him at all, looking so much younger once the make up was cleared away.

“Thanks,” she muttered quietly.

“Not a problem. Where do you keep your painkillers?”

“Erm… Bathroom cabinet? I think.”

He left her alone as he searched through the cabinet, coming back with a child proof bottle of Tylenol and a fresh bottle of water. She’d settled under her covers at that point, half asleep again.

“Clarke… Hey princess, take some of these.” Her eyes fluttered open once more and she looked daunted at the pill bottle. Bellamy chuckled to himself and uncapped it for her, handing her two pills which she swallowed down one by one, wincing with each mouthful of water.

“You good now? You need anything else before I head off?”

A scared look crossed her features, panic flashing her bright blue eyes.

“Clarke?”

“Erm… No it’s fine. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

“You sure?”

She swallowed heavily before answering. “Yeah, no, it’s fine.”

He remembered how horrible it was to be ill, especially when you were alone, and he reminded himself how unlike herself Clarke was at the minute.

“You know, if O’s out for the night I guess I could take her bed. That way if you need anything I’m right next door.”

Relief crossed Clarke’s face, she really hadn’t wanted him to leave but didn’t know how to ask him to stay. “You don’t have to….” she protested, more out of habit than anything else and he knew that.

“Nah it’s fine. To be honest, I don’t fancy driving back across town either. And I guess someone needs to keep you alive until my sister gets back right?”

She nodded gratefully, a small smile forming over her weary features.

“I’ll be right next door then okay. I’ll set my cell on loud so just text if you need me.”

She nodded again and settled back under the covers, feeling much happier knowing she wasn’t going to be alone tonight. As he reached the door she croaked out her thanks once more.

He nodded, it was no problem, adding “Anything for you princess,” under his breath.

If she’d have heard, she’d have perhaps thought it was a sarcastic comment, the sort they’d made to each other many a time.

Except Bellamy really meant it this time and all of the other times he’d come to say it to her before she realised.


End file.
